Turning the World RightSide Up
by Spazzkitty
Summary: Your typical AU High school sequel in which relationships soured and Hungary, matchmaker extraordinaire, tries to repair things to normalcy with her unique and ridiculous brand of matchmaking. Same parings as Turning the World Upside Down, its prequel.
1. Hell to Pay

Spazzkitty again. Okay, I'm sorry. I couldn't resist. I loved Turning the World Upside Down so much, I made a sequel. A more dramatic sequel, but what's High School without drama? I don't own Hetalia, but I do own Hungary's burnt eggs. I wish I didn't. I hope all those who enjoyed the prequel love this just as much, despite the lack of early fluff ^-^

***

Turning the World Right-Side Up

Chapter 1: Hell to Pay

Hungary growled to herself, grumbling various profanities as she shoveled scrambled eggs onto the four plates in front of her. She spread the plates around to the other people sitting at the table with her.

"You burnt them again," Feliciano mumbled, pushing them around the dish with his fork. Elizabeta sighed, reaching out to ruffle Italy's hair.

"I know, Ita-chan. I'm sorry." America, oddly enough, said nothing, taking a bite out of his charred eggs, his face stony. Romano just ignored the eggs, pulling out his lighter and a cigarette, his hands trembling as he fumbled with the package. Hungary snatched the lighter, glowering at him.

"You quit three years ago, Romano."

"Well, I started again. What are you, my mother?" Hungary responded by leaning forward and lighting his shirt on fire. "OH MY GOD! PUT IT OUT PUT IT OUT!" Feliciano panicked and grabbed the jug of water in the middle of the table, dumping the entire thing on his brother. Romano blinked, spitting out a mouthful.

"Thanks, Feliciano," said Hungary agreeably.

"What was that for?" said Romano darkly, wringing out his soaked T-shirt. Hungary stuck her tongue out at him.

"Romano, why did you start smoking again?" America said quietly. He was uncharacteristically pensive and didn't meet anyone's eyes. "Don't you remember? Quitting was hell." Lovino said nothing.

"Nii-chan, just because Spain broke up with you doesn't mean you need to let yourself go back to that dark, sad place," piped up Feliciano. Romano glared at him.

"Don't any of you preach to me!" he spat. "I'm not the only one who got dumped. You're all suddenly single, same as me. I'm not the only one who isn't moving on like everyone always says to! Hungary doesn't pay attention any more to ANYTHING, Italy hasn't smiled or eaten pasta in days, and America is actually quiet! So don't any of you pull that kind of high-and-mighty crap with me. And give me my damn lighter." There was silence after that little bombshell.

"You know what?" America said, rising out of his chair, a familiar twinkle entering his formerly dead-looking eyes. "Asshole is right." He ignored Romano's squawk of protest and slammed one gloved fist onto the table. "So what if England broke up with me? I'm hotter then Romano's shirt was five seconds ago, and I shouldn't be here moping. He doesn't know what he's missing, and I intend to make sure what he's missing is freaking awesome. Who's with me?"

Hungary stood up as well, smirking, throwing Romano's lighter over her shoulder and out the window, where it got run over by a Priass. "I am. If that asshole thinks I'm just going to sit around and mope after a text-message breakup, He'd better think again."

Romano stood with them, hazel eyes flashing, his unlit cigarette forgotten on the table. "Spain sucks," he said. The other two took that as an agreement. Finally, all three of them turned to Italy.

"I.." he started, not making eye contact. "I miss Germany." Tears brimmed in his brown eyes. "I miss the way he used to hold my hand in the hallways. I miss his smiles. I even miss him yelling at me." One drop escaped his eyes and America wiped it gently away with his thumb.

"We all miss them, Ita-chan," said Hungary, pulling him into a hug. "But just sitting around feeling sad won't help with anything." America wrapped both arms around the youngest and the oldest in the group. Finally, all three looked at Romano, who sighed and rather reluctantly entered the group hug.

"Hey, Feli," Romano said gruffly. "I can make you some Bolognese, okay? With lots of marinara sauce and some chocolate milk. Your favorite." Feliciano sniffled.

"Okay," he said, the statement more of a question than an answer. Romano detached himself from the tangle to head off to the kitchen, disposing of Hungary's burned breakfast.

"Lets go get some ice cream," said America in a more subdued voice.

"I like ice cream," said Feliciano, whimpering a little. America ruffled the brunette's hair.

"America, why don't you take the motorcycle and go pick up something from Dairy Queen?" He seemed about to protest, but wisely shut his mouth when he saw Hungary's ferocious glare.

"Okay, what do you want?"

"I DON'T CARE!" she barked. "JUST GO GET SOMETHING!" America left hurriedly, mumbling about PMS, which Hungary graciously chose to ignore.

"Ita-chan," she said gently, pulling him into a hug. He buried his face in her shoulder.

"I really loved him, Hungary. I really loved him."

"I know you did, honey." She soothingly stroked his hair, her emerald eyes dimming when she heard a faint sob.

"I thought he loved me too. Why did he do this to me?" came Italy's muffled, anguished voice.

"I don't know, Italy." That was all Hungary could think to say as she thought back to just two weeks ago, at the spring dance, when everyone had been happy. And during winter break, all that happiness had been shattered. Tomorrow was the start of school, and things would most certainly be awkward. But all Hungary could feel was rage, thinking of little Feliciano's tearstained face, of Romano's hands desperately searching out another cigarette, of America's sapphire eyes surrounded by bags, looking lifeless in his pale, bony face.

"I don't know," she repeated, "But when I find out, Ita-chan, I promise there will be hell to pay."


	2. Dreams of the Past

I didn't want to write this. I had a feeling it would turn out as total crap, and I was right. But whatever. Enjoy if you can. Don't own Hetalia, blah blah blah. I feel like crap and it sucks. I need a hug TT-TT Note: More of Hungary's past will be revealed through her dreams as the story goes on

***

Turning the World Right-Side Up

Chapter Two: Dreams of the Past

"_Elizabeta, honey, you have to hold still," a voice gently chastised. Elizabeta just giggled, fiddling with the edge of her frilly white dress. The intricate, flowery dress was the fanciest thing she had ever worn._

_"Can I move yet, Momma?" She asked, rocking on her heels._

_"Not yet, baby."_

_Elizabeta made a growling sound in the back of her throat. She hated sitting still. "How about now?"_

_Momma chuckled. "Okay. You can move." Elizabeta beamed and turned around, launching herself into her mother's arms. _

_"Do I look pretty, Momma? Do I?"_

_"Of course, darling," her mother murmured fondly, examining her daughter's French braid. "You look beautiful." Elizabeta smiled proudly and Momma knelt down so her emerald eyes met the matching ones of her daughter._

_"Remember, sweetie, this client is very, very important to Daddy. So you need to be the polite, well-behaved little girl I know you can be."_

_"Yes, Momma."_

_"They have a son about your age, Elizabeta. Maybe you could play with him. He's five years old."_

_Elizabeta rolled her eyes superiorly. "Six is a lot older than five."_

_"I know, I know. But it would mean a lot to Daddy and to me if you two can get along. Can you do that for me?"_

_"Okay," she said, subdued. Momma swept her up into a hug and kissed her cheeks._

_"That's my girl," she said with a radiant smile. If her mother was any indication, Elizabeta would grow into a beautiful woman some day. Momma grabbed her by her hand and led her down the spacious, lavish hallways of the Hedervary home. Elizabeta loved her big, rich house. Momma said that Daddy's clients were very important for getting all the money they had, so Elizabeta had to make a good impression so the people would get along with Daddy. She saw Daddy talking to another family, and broke out into an adorable smile._

_"Daddy!" she cried, running down the hallway to him. Daddy turned to her with a smile and scooped her up into a tight hug._

_"Hello, Liza!" He said, laughing lightly. "There are my clients, Mr. and Mrs. Jones. Say 'hello'."_

_"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Jones," Elizabeta said, polite but wary. She gazed down from her perch in her father's arms to look at the little boy on the floor._

_"Hi!" he said, looking at her with his perfectly round sapphire eyes. "My name is Alfred Jones! What's yours?"_

_--_

Hungary blinked her emerald eyes slowly as she woke up, the words 'Elizabeta Hedervary' already on her lips. She sat up, stretching, noticing America was asleep right next to her. Ever since England had unceremoniously broken up with him, America had been sleeping later and later, and he looked wan no matter how much sleep he got. She looked at the clock, noting to herself that she would wake up America in ten minutes.

With a yawn, she sat up and stretched. A sniffling sound came from the room across the hall and Hungary tiptoed out and peeked in the door. Feliciano was asleep, sobbing weakly, and Romano was brushing his hair out of his eyes, softly singing a tune Hungary recognized. It was the same lullaby Grandpa Rome had sang to Italy when he had the night terrors that often plagued him.

Romano caught Hungary's eyes and blushed, his singing faltering a little in embarassment. 'Breakfast in ten' she mouthed, and he nodded. She slipped out of the doorway and went to her room, looking in her closet. She found an outfit and smirked. "Perfect."

--

Austria was standing by his locker, with Japan, Kiku, and a pretty girl with short red hair. Seychelles walked by, giving Austria a pointed glare, and then turning her furious gaze to Kiku. He visibly winced.

"Sorry about the friction between you and Seychelles," Austria apologized quietly. Kiku smiled slightly, but you could tell he was troubled.

"It's alright. I believe the expression is 'Bros before hoes'?"

"Seriously. Just because I broke up with Hungary doesn't mean you should break up with Seychelles."

"I bet you're glad you broke up with Hungary!" The redhead giggled, clutching onto Austria's arm and looking at him adoringly. "Now you have me, darling!"

"You know what I think?" interrupted a cheerful voice, "I think Hungary doesn't appreciate redheaded sluts talking about her!"

The three froze and turned around to find Hungary standing behind them. She was wearing a spiked black choker, a red plaid skirt, purple knee-high boots with a heel that laced up the front, and a black sleeveless shirt. She looked gorgeous and Austria could barely stop himself from drooling.

"My NAME is Kaitlyn, not slut," the redhead said with a snarl.

"That's fantastic," said Hungary with a bored sigh. "Try telling someone who cares. Oh, Hey Kiku! You know, thanks to you, I got to see something awesome three days ago!"

"What do you mean?" he asked quietly.

"Well, I never saw Seychelles crying her heart out before, and I've known her for half a year! So thank you for dumping her and making that something new to experience!"

"She… she was crying?" he managed to get out, his eyes widening guiltily.

"Yep!" she said, smiling hugely. Only Austria managed to decipher the gleam in her eyes as rage. Hungary was _extremely_ pissed. "She was collapsed in front of my door sobbing hysterically! She told me she wanted to die! So thanks a lot for that fun time! Oh, and Austria?"

"What?" he asked warily. His new girlfriend was still gaping at her, but she chose to ignore it.

"Do me a favor and thank Spain for breaking up with Romano! Now that Romano smokes again because of it, he's killing himself with lung cancer! It's so fantastic! I gotta go to class. Have fun with your slut!" Without another word, she turned on her heel and skipped down the hallway.

"I made her cry," mumbled Kiku, dark eyes wide. He looked like somebody had slapped him in the face. Austria put his hand gently on his friend's shoulder.

"It'll work out," he said reassuringly.

"How?"

Austria sighed. "Honestly? I really don't know." He watched Hungary turn the corner, trying to ignore the looks she was getting from other boys. _ 'I'm not dating her anymore,' _He thought to himself. Kaitlyn kissed him on the cheek and he barely suppressed a groan.

_'No matter how much I'd like to be.'_

--

Prussia was confused. Confusing Prussia didn't take much effort usually, but for once, he had a good reason to be confused. Germany had taken him aside to yell at him for selling fake hall passes for the umpteenth time, but he wasn't yelling or even talking. Hell, he didn't even look mad!

At first, the conversation had started normally. Germany had grabbed Prussia by the arm and dragged him to an empty classroom. He had been in the middle of a rant about responsibility or something (As if Prussia ever paid attention to him). Then Ludwig had froze midsentence when he saw the whiteboard on which somebody had written 'Pasta Dinner on Friday'. "Pasta," Germany had murmured sadly, staring at the board with a forlorn expression. And, five minutes later, they were still in that same position. It was awkward. Did Ludwig seriously forget about the awesomeness that was Prussia?

Suddenly, someone kicked the door open with a rattling slam. The two brothers were shaken out of their reverie to find Hungary, frying pan in hand, with a dazzling smile on her face. Poor Prussia saw her outfit and almost had a nosebleed.

"Hello, Germany," she spat, smile still perfectly in place despite the acidic tone in her voice. "Mind if we have a chat?"


	3. The Sun and the Moon

It's Spazzkitty, the author who wants to wage a holy crusade against Peanut-Butter cups! (Chocolate and peanut butter TOGETHER? It's unnatural and WEIRD!) Anyway, I'm sorry I haven't updated in forever, as this chapter did NOT WANT to be written. But I'm back on the bandwagon with the updates, and will try to keep the chapters coming. _**UPDATE FOR YOU JERKS WHO DON'T READ AUTHOR'S NOTES, BUT LIKE MY WRITING (NOTICIBLE ENOUGH FOR YOU?):**_ I'm doing a collab with xcorkx that you should check out! It's a parody of Hercules with America as our dashing hero, and it's under her fics! So check it out if you've got the time! I don't own Hetalia- yaaaaay!

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Turning the World Right-Side Up

Chapter 3: The Sun and the Moon

Germany groaned as his eyes slowly flickered open. He was lying on a cot in the nurse's office, but the whole room was spinning. His head hurt like crazy, and he couldn't remember what happened. How had he gotten here?

"Ger-ch…Germany? Are you awake?" A timid voice piped up. Germany blinked his dazed blue eyes. The fuzziness slowly faded and he saw Feliciano perched on a chair near him. His heart gave a surprised leap.

"Italy? What are you doing here?"

"Hungary-chan said she found you unconscious in a classroom. So she asked me to stay here until you got up, 'cause I have a free period right now." Germany shook his head a little, which admittedly made it hurt even more, and what actually happened came back to him with shocking clarity. Hungary had been lunging at him, spitting out profanities and accusations, her trusty frying pan at the ready. As he had expertly dodged her blows, he had been trying to explain himself when he tripped over a stack of books. Hungary had finally managed to hit him with a frying pan- of course, it had been full-on his forehead. Apparently, she had knocked him unconscious and lied to Italy for her own nefarious purposes, whatever they were.

Germany was snapped out of his reverie when he heard a slight sniffle. He looked at Italy, only to flinch in shock. The freshman's face was paler than he had remembered, with faded streaks of tears on both of his ashen cheeks. His brown eyes were full of sadness, and Germany dimly felt himself brush his thumb across the other boy's cheekbones.

"Italy," he said gently. "What's wrong?"

"Germany, why don't you like me any more?" Italy said in a whisper.

"Of course still I like you!" he replied automatically.

"Then why did you break up with me?" He whimpered.

"I... I thought..." Germany stammered, his eyes dropping guiltily from Italy's.

"Look at me!" Feliciano suddenly erupted, his voice pleading. "You don't have to answer me if you don't want to. Just don't ignore me. I can't take it."

Surprised, Germany lifted his eyes back to the sad brown ones staring at him. Without thinking, he mumbled, "I'm not good enough."

"What?"

"It's nothing," Germany said hastily, his face turning a light pink.

"Tell me," Italy said, a familiar whine beginning to creep into his voice. Germany was so relieved that he was beginning to sound like his old self that he absentmindedly repeated his statement.

"I'm not good enough for you, Italy. I don't deserve you," he said with a sigh. He looked up at Italy, only to see the brunette staring at him curiously with one head cocked to the side.

"Ve?" Was all he said, but Germany knew him well enough to be able to tell that he wanted him to explain.

"Italy, you're… you're incredible. You're like the sun. You're bright and comforting and warm. And you deserve someone better than I am, someone who can make you happy."

Italy blinked a few times in surprise. Distantly, he remembered something Gilbert had said when Germany and Italy has first started dating.

"_You're dating my brother now?" Gilbert had said, nonchalantly spray-painting 'PRUSSIA WUZ HEER' on a locker. "So he remembers his past now then? Hopefully his childhood inferiority complex won't kick in."_

_"His what?" Italy asked curiously._

_"Inferiority complex." Seeing Italy's blank look, he sighed. "It means, dumbass, that he thought he wasn't good enough for my dad. He had a horrible self-opinion because my dad, Germania, was somewhat of an ass. He was always telling Germany that he wasn't good enough, that he was weak and spineless, and that he was worthless. So I guess it's good that you're dating him now because you make him feel like he's important. You know?"_

"Germany, you're such a dummy," Italy said after a pause.

"What?" The blonde looked at him, shock plain in his blue eyes. That clearly wasn't what he was expecting.

"_You _make me happy, Ludwig. If I'm the sun, then you must be the moon. You're calm and serious, and cool. And you kill spiders for me. The sun and the moon are opposites, but they live in the same sky, right?"

"They do, I suppose…" mumbled Ludwig distractedly, reaching out and clasping Feliciano's hands. The brunette smiled beautifully in response, and Germany almost beamed himself at how whole the other boy looked, so complete and pure and delighted.

"That's right! They do! And the earth needs both the moon and the sun, right? I guess that makes me the earth too, because I need my moon to exist. Otherwise, I can't go on. Right?" He smiled and squeezed Ludwig's hands.

"Right," Ludwig said, dazed. The full reality of what Feliciano was saying had finally sunk in. Feliciano was saying that he needed him. That he made him happy. Ludwig had never felt truly important before, and he wasn't sure how to react to the warm feeling bubbling up inside him. So he acted the only way that seemed to make sense to him at the time. He leaned forward and kissed the younger boy fully on the mouth. Italy gasped slightly in surprise, then clung to him as tightly as he could, as if afraid he was going to wake up and find the whole incident was a dream. And right outside the door, a girlish giggle was heard.

"We're freakin AWESOME!" cheered Hungary in a hushed voice, ducking back out of sight and slapping a high-five onto Seychelles's palm.

"Darn straight we are!" She said, grinning massively.

"How did you even get the nurse out of there?"

Seychelles giggled again, covering her mouth. "I told her Japan was bleeding heavily from the eyes earlier today. She's still convinced that he's lying about being fine and she literally won't leave him alone."

"Seriously? Hell hath no fury like Seychelles scorned! You, my friend, are an artist."

"I learned from the best!"

--

Spain walked uncertainly down the hallway, looking for a certain foul-mouthed Italian. Something he had heard from Austria earlier made him feel uneasy, and he needed to see for himself if his ex-boyfriend had begun to smoke. Finally, he found him near the band lockers, with an unlit cigarette in his mouth and a box of matches in his hand. Spain's blood turned to ice.

"LOVINO!" he barked, horrified, storming over and yanking the cigarette from between the other boy's lips.

"Asshole," Lovino acknowledged calmly. Spain felt a pang of sadness at the loathing in his tone. The Italian sighed, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the packet of cigarettes, his fingers selecting a new one. Spain grabbed both the cigarette and the package out of his hands and threw them out the window, similar to what Hungary had done the day before with his lighter. Lovi glowered at him.

"_Chingate_."

Spain winced. "You still pronounce Spanish perfectly, eh?"

"What does it matter to you?"

"Romano, don't do this to yourself."

"Don't do what?" He said innocently, looking out the window to see where his cigarettes landed.

"Give yourself lung cancer!" Antonio said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it should have been to anyone other than Lovino. The other boy just rolled his eyes.

"Maybe I want to die of lung cancer, but even if I do, it's none of your business. You owe me five bucks for a new pack of cigarettes."

"Cigarettes aren't five bucks! They're much less than that!"

"Maybe I want extra money for the damages to my psyche that a certain douchebag gave me after rudely dumping me," Lovino shot back. Without another word, he kicked Spain where it hurt and stomped off, bellowing "WHERE THE FUCK DID MY CIGARETTES LAND?"

Spain hit the floor in a crumpled heap. "I deserved that," he said quietly.

"Yes you did!" piped up Ivan cheerfully, skipping over Spain and purposely stepping on his hand with his massive steel-toed boots. Antonio hissed in pain, and Russia giggled innocently.

Causing pain was a tough job, but somebody had to do it.

***

According to a website with Spanish swears, _Chingate_ means 'Fuck you'. Sorry if it's not accurate, but I probably won't change it even if it's wrong. It's too much hassle to reupload the chapter.


	4. Revenge is Sweet

Spazz here. I'm probably going to get a lot of reviews saying 'OH MY GOD YOU NEVER UPDATE', and I'm SO sorry. Mom's been trying to cut down my computer time, so writing this has been rough. So please don't get too mad at me. I do love you all. And I love Germany, so sorry about the torment he has to go through during this chapter. I just felt like this story was lacking in humor, so a revival needed to take place. I don't own Hetalia! Also, for readers of Parent Trap, there's a side-pairing poll goin on my NEWLY RENOVATED profile, so check that out if you get the time!

***

Turning the World Right-Side Up

Chapter 4: Revenge is Sweet

_"I'm Elizabeta Hedervary," the girl said warily, gazing down at him. Her father set her carefully on the ground and she took a few timid steps forward, extending her hand formally to him. Alfred grinned (not particularly formal), and, with a stern look from his mother, brushed a kiss to the back of it._

_"Blech," he mumbled, wiping the back of his mouth. "Cooties."_

_A spark of rage ignited in the other girl's eyes, but Alfred ignored her, too focused with his father's hand which had just clamped down on his shoulder. "Alfred," he said. The boy in question winced as he saw the warning look in his father's eyes. "Can we talk?"_

_"Yes, Poppa," he said sadly, shuffling off. He met his mother's sympathetic sapphire eyes and twisted his expression into that of a long-suffering martyr. Alice (his mother) giggled, her flashing blue eyes and blonde hair the spitting image of her son's. After a long lecture about chivalry and the proper behavior towards a lady, Alfred took Elizabeta's hand with a more subdued smile and the two ran off to play in the garden._

_--_

_"Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, ONE HUNDRED!" America cried in delight. He had always been good with numbers, but this was his first time getting all the way to one hundred without stopping or even pausing to think about what came next. He removed his hands from his eyes and blinked around the lush garden, looking for the girl with wavy brown hair. He peered into bushes for about ten minutes, starting to get worried, when suddenly the six-year-old he had been seeking out leapt from a bush and wrapped her arms around his waist in a forceful hug._

_"Here I am!" she sang. Alfred turned to berate her about breaking the rules of Hide and Seek but stopped when he saw her face. On her eyebrows rested two enormous, black, fuzzy, caterpillars. "Don't they look silly?" Elizabeta giggled, doubling over in laughter at her own joke. Alfred appraised them seriously._

_"I dunno. I think they're cute," he said easily._

_Elizabeta raised her furry eyebrows. "You're crazy."_

_"Am not!" He said defensively, a blush heating his cheeks. "I just think fuzzy eyebrows are kinda cute is all!"_

_Elizabeta ignored him. "Hey, do you think I should show my mom?"_

_"Sure!" he said, glad for the topic change. "I think she'd laugh!" _

_"Okay," Elizabeta grinned, holding out her hand for Alfred. He took it and they both turned back towards the room where their parents had been. Both froze. The house was on fire._

_­_--

America was roused from this dream-turned-nightmare by his dear friend Romano affectionately punching him in the kidneys screaming "WAKE UP, BASTARD!" He raised his head from the table and blinked blearily at Romano, a small strand of drool hanging from his mouth.

"Why is the sun all dark now?" He said incoherently.

"You've been asleep for three hours. It's six o'clock now."

"Really?" He said, shaking his head and rousing himself from his stupor. His eyes drifted to Hungary, who was looking at him curiously, but his pain-filled blue eyes sent a spark of recognition into hers. She knew he was dreaming about that day more than ten years ago again, and she smiled comfortingly at him before going back to stirring whatever was on the saucepan.

"So it's six o' clock? Germany's coming in about ten minutes to pick up Italy, right?"

"That's right," answered Hungary. Italy had been attempting to 'punish' Germany for leaving him for the past three days (since they got back together). The method included having Ludwig carry his books to class and eating lunch together every day. The other boy seemed very happy with his 'torment'. The two were going on a date tonight as well.

"It pisses me off," growled Romano. "The bastard broke my brother's heart. So what if it was a misunderstanding? I still want to kick him in the face."

"Me too," Alfred sighed.

Hungary thought a moment before a smile flickered across her face. "Remember that girlfriend Italy had in the seventh grade?"

"Which one? There were at least fourteen."

"The one who had the Salsa incident."

"With the-?"

"Yeah." All three collectively shuddered.

"Remember what we did to get rid of her? We could use the same thing as a revenge tactic," Hungary stated with the air of a general planning a battle. The other two nodded and all three began to smile.

"Dibs on bad cop," America said, touching his fingertip to his nose.

"Good cop!" Hungary cried, also touching her nose. Romano swore.

"Does that mean I have to be the creepy one again?" He complained.

"But Lovi," America whined. "Last time you did so well! Remember when you made a voodoo doll of that girl out of mashed potatoes? That was classic!"

"I guess it was," Romano said proudly, a grin flickering across his face.

"We NEED you to be the creepy one," begged Hungary. "It balances out the whole act!"

"Fine," Lovino groaned. "But just because you need me." Hungary hugged him affectionately and America slapped him a high-five. "Oh get a hold of yourself. Let's just get this over with.

--

Germany tugged self-consciously at the collar of his red polo shirt. Maybe he should have dressed up more? But Italy had specifically demanded he come in causal clothes. He sighed and shrugged to himself in a resigned way, knocking politely on the door to Feliciano's apartment building. Instantly, the door swung open and an ecstatic brunette pulled him into a massive hug.

"H-Hungary?" he choked out in surprise, trying to pry the girl off him (A/N: Ha, bet you thought it was Feli).

"IT'S SO WONDERFUL TO SEE YOU, GERMANY!" She said between what sounded suspiciously like sobs.

"E-Elizabeta? Are you crying?"

"I'M JUST SO HAPPY THAT YOU AND ITALY ARE BACK TOGETHER AND YOU'RE SO IN LOVE AND IT'S JUST A BEAUTIFUL THING!" She clutched the suffocating blonde to her and wailed dramatically.

"I'm not happy," a voice said snidely. Germany glanced over his shoulder to see America, blue eyes cold and… was he wearing a leather jacket? England would have died of a nosebleed-related blood loss. "Because, frankly, I don't like you or trust you. And also, you smell."

Germany raised his eyebrow, but he didn't get a chance to respond because he felt a tug on his sleeve. He looked over to see Romano staring at him with massive and unreadable brown eyes. "What?" he asked, unnerved. Romano still said nothing. "What is it?" he repeated. Romano started at him for a few more seconds before giggling creepily and turning away, walking down the hallway. Ludwig shuddered.

"Ve, Ludwig! You're here!" Feliciano cheered, poking his head around the hall. "Just in time for dinner! Please, come and eat with us!"

"O-okay," Germany said uncomfortably, shaking his arm desperately to try to get a bawling Hungary off of it. America was still glaring daggers at him, and god knows what Lovino was doing. The last thing Ludwig wanted to do was stay for dinner, but he didn't know exactly how to say that. So he smiled slightly. "Sure. Dinner would be great."

--

Germany stared awkwardly down at his plate, pushing the wurst around delicately with his fork. Hungary was smiling massively at him and piling more and more sausage on his plate, despite the fact that he hadn't really touched it at all. America was stabbing his meat viciously and glaring at it like it had wronged him in the past, and Romano wasn't saying anything, just blinking eerily and staring at Germany when he didn't think the blonde was looking. He always was.

"So, what are you two crazy lovebirds doing tonight?" Hungary asked cheerfully, leaning forward across her interlaced fingers, an odd habit of hers.

"Germany's planning on spending the evening stomping on Italy's heart with soccer cleats. So nothing unusual," America said icily, not looking up from his plate. Romano finally locked eyes and uttered the one statement that made Germany's entire face go bright red.

"I want to be an uncle, you know."

Hungary grinned massively, taking up the cue. "That's right! We haven't given Italy the talk yet! Ludwig, I leave that responsibility to you."

"What talk?" Italy asked stupidly.

"The 'where babies come from' talk," explained Alfred. Ludwig looked like he might pass out.

"Oh yeah! Where do babies come from, Germany?"

That's when the poor guy actually did lose consciousness.

"Nice touch there, Lovi," whispered America as Feliciano leaned over Germany, frantically trying to wake him up. The three co-conspirators slapped high fives, Hungary grinning widest. Of course, that's because she had been able to swipe Lovi's cigarettes when he wasn't looking. The little moron may be trying to kill himself, but Hungary would be damned before she actually let him do it. And maybe figuring out where he and Spain went wrong would help.


	5. A New Couple

HELLO, EVERYBODY. I'M NOT DEAD! I know, shocker, right? This took forever to make time for and forever to actually WRITE, so basically it's taken twice as much forever. And I truly am sorry for that. But I do actually like the way this one turned out, and I'm curious to see how you'll react to it! So let me know what you think! =D I don't own Hetalia, but I do own this chapter!

***

Turning the World Right-Side Up

Chapter Five: A New Couple

"—and then Lovi told him that he wanted to be an UNCLE!" Seychelles slumped against her locker, unable to stop the near-hysterical laughter bubbling out of her.

"He DIDN'T!" she choked out.

"He totally did," Hungary said, giggling herself at the recollection of the event. That just made Seychelles laugh harder until she and Hungary were leaning against each other because they were unable to stand on their own. After a few minutes of laughter, they managed to compose themselves.

"I didn't know Lovino was so good at acting like a freak," commented Seychelles, her dark eyes still sparkling with mirth.

"You'd be surprised," agreed Elizabeta, "Although he hasn't really needed to act as of late. He's been enough of a freak anyway. Acting all irritable and moody—"

"Isn't he always like that?" Seychelles interrupted with genuine curiosity.

"Usually, he's just grumpy for the sake of being grumpy," Hungary snorted derisively. "But now he's taking it too far. He made Feliciano cry the other night, which is actually pretty unusual. I mean, he felt awful afterwards, but he still did it. And he's been hiding a pack of cigarettes in his sock drawer, even though he's promised to quit about twelve times."

"…Wait, how do you know what's in his sock drawer?"

"I know EVERYTHING," she said with a roll of her eyes. "But that's beside the point. Basically, he's been a little shit lately, and it's all Spain's fault."

"He took the dumping really hard, huh?" she murmured sympathetically. "Can't say I blame him. He seemed to genuinely like Antonio—in his own way, I mean. And Antonio seemed to like him. He still does."

"Oh really?" A genuine spark of interest crept into her voice. Seychelles shrugged, not noticing the way the news seemed to make Hungary perk up.

"Yeah. He's been all depressed in Spanish class. Drooping around, looking all listless." Seychelles could speak both French and English fluently, and as a result decided to pursue Spanish to round out her language studies. "He's not really helping the girls who are trying to get his attention for tutoring. He just talks to himself in Spanish all the time. He seems miserable. And he constantly asks me about Lovino. 'How's he doing?' 'Is he well?' It's getting a little weird."

"So he DOES still like him!" Hungary squealed. The sound interrupted the otherwise quiet hallways, and everybody looked at them in confusion. A blush rose to Seychelles's coffee-colored cheeks, but Elizabeta just sighed. "Oh, like you guys haven't heard a girl flip a shit in your hallways before." The students all glanced at each other—this was actually quite true—before resuming whatever they were doing. Hungary nodded in satisfaction before turning back to her friend. "So he does still like him!" she repeated in a more normal volume.

"What makes you say that?" Seychelles asked skeptically.

"Oh, please. I recognize the symptoms. He's obviously as lovesick as a little puppy. A little Spanish puppy. With a fanclub." Hungary nodded confidently, tossing her hair over her shoulder so it would stop getting caught on the buttons of her shirt. "The only question is, why would he dump Lovi if he still is madly and desperately in love with him?"

Seychelles raised an eyebrow at the choice of words, but didn't question them any more than that. "Good luck trying to get an answer out of him. I've been asking him nonstop at the beginning and end of every class. He just looks around like he thinks someone will come and punch his lights out, and then says 'I'd rather not talk about it now'. Too bizarre."

"Well, we'll just have to BEAT IT OUT OF HIM!"

"Are you SERIOUS?" Seychelles spluttered out.

"Of course not. Ladies don't resort to violence. Unless it's on albinos and thoroughly deserved." Hungary pursed her lips sourly, doubtless thinking of obnoxious Gilbert, who she had yet to realize genuinely liked her 'that way'. "No, with Spain we need to take a different approach. He needs a push to admit exactly what it is that caused him to break it up. And if he still loves Lovi, then that'll be easier then we thought! What we need," she said, grinning slowly, "is to make him jealous."

--

"Do we really need to ask HER?" Seychelles mumbled anxiously. "She's really scary! I heard she killed someone once!"

"Those are just rumors, Chelles," said Hungary, trying to separate the panicked girl from her arm. She was beginning to lose circulation. "And there's nobody else to go to. She's the best person for the job!"

"But how do you know she'll DO it? We're really not sure she'll even say yes."

"Well, we have to try, right?"

"Right," Seychelles muttered, but she didn't sound entirely convinced.

"Look, I'll do all the talking. You don't even have to do anything. You're just here for moral support. Okay?" Hungary steered her towards the band lockers, the girl in question's particular place of residence during lunch period. There they found her, sitting in an abandoned chair casually, filing her nails into perfect points with a sharp dagger. Seychelles let out a little scream, but the other girl barely glanced up.

"What do you want?" she asked in a bored voice, looking at her nails still.

"N-nothing! Let's go!" Seychelles stammered, pulling at Hungary's arm. The brunette stubbornly refused to move, instead smiling amiably.

"Hey, how did you get that knife in school? Didn't the student council freak about it?"

Dark eyes snapped up to meet the Elizabeta's green ones and she smirked in response to the question. "And how do you propose they would take it from me?"

"True," Elizabeta responded, her tone still agreeable. "You really can do anything, can't you, Natalia?"

"Depends," she said suspiciously, "on what it is you're asking me to do. And how much you're willing to pay me for it."

"Come on, Eliza," said Seychelles in a quavering voice. "Lunch is almost over."

"We have plenty of time, Chelles."

"What's your hurry?" Natalia asked with a challenging smile. She slid the knife into her shoulder bag and withdrew a black bottle of nail polish, which she uncapped and used to carefully spread a new coat of polish on her black-chipped nails.

"No hurry at all. In fact, we came to see if you'd help us with a problem." Seeing Natalia's raised eyebrow, Hungary persisted. "You see, our friend Lovino has been—"

"Dumped," Natalia cut in, neatly brushing a little more polish on her right index nail. "I've heard. By that dumbass Carriedo." A note of contempt entered her voice when she mentioned his name, and Hungary made a mental note to remember her apparent dislike of him. It could be useful later. "Boohoo. How tragic. What do you want me to do about it?"

"I'm glad you asked," Hungary said cheerfully. "Lovino is still really in love with him." _'Not that he'll admit it,'_ she added silently. "And according to my sources, Antonio might still be in love with our little Lovi. The only issue now is why they broke up, but Spain won't talk. This is where you come in, Natalia."

"I'm not sure I like where this is going," said Natalia, narrowing her eyes. "but you can call me Belarus if you'd like. Almost nobody calls me by my real name anymore."

"Right. Belarus. Well, we need some way to make Antonio either talk to us or get back together with Romano. So we figured the best way was to make him jealous."

"Let me guess. You want me to fake-date your little Lovino." Hungary nodded and a smirk flickered across Belarus's mouth. "Sounds interesting. But why should I do it?"

"Because," Seychelles piped up, to the surprise of all three of them. "You've hated Spain since middle school. Ever since he beat your brother in the school talent show. Remember? Ivan got second and Spain got first."

"It wasn't a fair fight," barked Belarus, sitting upright and drawing her knife out again. Seychelles flinched away, but all Natalia seemed to want to do with it for the moment was clutch it in her hand. "Just because that jackass Antonio has more friends then my beloved brother, he won the stupid contest! Ivan practiced and practiced his song, and it was _beautiful_. Just because Spanish supposedly sounds 'sexier' then Russian and that stupid douchebag of a Spaniard has a throng of half-witted fangirls who will vote for him, he won! And I will NEVER forgive him for that!"

"Then there's your reason," Hungary said, seeming unaffected by her outburst. "To piss him off." Seeing Natalia's uncomprehending look, she pressed on. "Well, you hate him. That much is evident. Wouldn't you love to get under his skin by pretending to date the boy he's in love with? Don't you wanna see him glaring at you with the same irritation that you feel towards him?"

"Hm…Tempting," said Belarus slowly, a smirk stretching across her mouth. "Alright. I'll do it. But just for the sake of pissing off that asshole."

"Perfect!" cheered Hungary, leaning forward eagerly. "Okay. This is what I need you to do."

--

Lovino was just innocently walking down the hallway when all of a sudden he felt someone latch onto his arm. He looked down to see what's-her-name clinging to him, looking up at him adoringly. "Um, can I help you…girl?"

"Yes you can," she said with a giggle. "My name is Natalia, or Belarus, and I'm your girlfriend now."

Lovino started at her for a few seconds in pure disbelief, finally managing to say one word: "What."

"We're DATING," cooed Belarus, her eyes sparkling with something akin to murderous rage. Actually, there really wasn't an 'akin' about it. "We're madly in love. _And_," she added in a whisper, "_if you say anything different, I'm going to rip you apart limb by limb. This is all to make your dumbass ex jealous, so if you don't play along, I'm going to castrate you with a rusty axe." _ There was a brief pause. "Darling," she added as an afterthought.

"Oh my god," Lovino breathed in horror. He could see Spain staring at them in shock out of the corner of his eye, but the thought didn't make him any less terrified of the fair-haired girl beside him.

"I love you," said Belarus sweetly, looking at him with her best smile. There was something somewhat creepy about her smile, pretty though it was, and Romano attempted to sneak out of her grip. She tightened it when she felt him try to leave, and he blanched. "Do. You. Love. Me. Lovi?"

"…Sure?" he said, color rising to his cheeks. Even if this WAS Belarus, it seemed like it had been a long time since somebody said those words to him. Belarus smiled in satisfaction as she heard Antonio drop an armful of books. She leaned up to whisper in his ear.

"Good enough, stupid. Took you long enough to play along," she breathed, before pulling back. She silently steeled herself for what she knew she had to do—_'The things I'll do for revenge, really'—_before leaning forward and pressing her lips to the stunned pair beneath her.


End file.
